


Come Back For Her

by SmokeMonsterSyd



Category: The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: AU, spoilers for the end of series three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13394181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeMonsterSyd/pseuds/SmokeMonsterSyd
Summary: Stella Gibson always talks about doubling, and does so for most of the series. Maybe the end of the series was not what it seemed.





	Come Back For Her

Her lips pull the earthy wine from the bottom of her glass and into her waiting mouth. It’s quiet, and she can’t stand it.

Something in her head tells her she needs to move on, that there is nothing she can do, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment from her most recent failure. That doesn’t change the fact that Spector is dead, there will be no justice, and another little girl is without the man she loves the most. She takes another sip of wine.

The house is dark, cold, lonely, like all the hotel rooms in Belfast. Like her office at night. Like the mortuary on that horrible day with the Kays. Like the Foil clinic after Spector was done with it. And for once, in a very long while, she feels completely alone. The stack of mail on her counter taunts her, emphasizing the time she wasted with its size. She slings back the rest of her wine, letting it burn down her throat and fall gracefully into her stomach.

She can’t be in this house anymore, not by herself. She grabs her coat and flings it over her shoulders, heading out the door and down to the sidewalk.

As the breeze hits her cheeks and her eyes adjust to the dark, she is reminded of a time in her past, a night similar to this one. She walks slowly down the sidewalk as the memories flicker through her eyes.

_I’m almost home, she thinks, and then this entire miserable day will be over._

_There is a cry, short and soft at first, that turns into a wail that cannot be ignored. It’s close. She stops in her tracks and closes her eyes, listening for which direction the cry is coming from._

_There is an alley up ahead, narrow, dark, cold, and unwelcoming, but as she approaches it, it’s obvious that is where the noise is coming from. Even before taking two steps into the dark, she can see it._

_A small bundle on the ground, flailing and crying for help._

Her eyes tear up as they did those many years ago, wondering who in the world could possibly leave such a precious child on the cold, dark street. New thoughts strike her that her previously inexperienced mind never considered before. Was the mother like Sally Anne Spector? Was her father a sexual sadist who only cared for himself? Was this child really better off dead?

_She wraps her jacket around the baby as best she can, trying to protect it from the harsh, frosty, winter night. The baby stills and hiccups in her arms, little face pressed into her neck, rooting for warmth. Her arms lock, holding the baby in place against her body as the blood in her veins starts to freeze._

_She looks around, calls out for someone to claim their child, but there is no answer. Her silent tears crystallize on her lashes as she bows her head against the wind._

What would have happened if she hadn’t cried out at that exact moment? Would she have ever found her? Would she be dead by now? Stella can’t bear to even consider that possibility.

_She’s not entirely sure what to do. Her training tells her she should call the police. Her heart tells her she can do it in the morning. Take care of the baby now, it says, return it to its home in the morning, well fed and clean. Besides, you_  are _the police._

_She breathes gently against the baby’s head, warming it, holding it tighter against her shoulder as she fights the chill, and heads towards the grocery store around the corner._

_The heat of the store sends a shiver through her body, as if all the cold suddenly rushes from her skin. By some miracle, the child is asleep in her arms, and it’s hard to believe that just minutes before it was wailing for people to hear for miles. Surprisingly, she finds her way around quite easily, picking things up and placing them in the cart. In the checkout line, the cashier eyes her suspiciously and she stares them down, daring them to ask about the baby in her arms._

_And that was the moment she knew, she would do absolutely anything to protect this child._

Her footsteps slow as she realizes she has reached her destination. As she looks up at the house and notices only one window shining with light, she finally realizes how late it is, and wonders if she should turn back around and go home.

“Fuck it,” she mutters to herself, and makes her way up the front steps.

She knocks three times before sliding her hands into her pockets, lightly kicking at the dirt with her heels. She wonders if anyone heard her.

The door opens, a friendly face on the other side, a coworker she hasn’t seen in months named Jane.

“Stella,” Jane greets her happily, and then gasps, “what happened to your face?”

Stella’s hand flies to her cheek, and as it connects with her jaw she remembers the marks from her observation in the mirror. Maybe she should have thought this through.

“I had an accident,” she replies, shaking her head, “I’m fine.”

“What are you doing here, I thought you weren’t coming until morning?”

“I need to see her,” she murmurs.

Jane smiles sympathetically and steps aside, inviting her in and leading her up the stairs.

She remembers that first night they spent together.

_She had taken extra care when washing her, keeping her upright in the sink and using a cup to gently rinse her body. She had splashed gently in the water, and besides the wailing that had alerted her to Stella’s attention, she had been quiet all evening._

_She puts on a fresh diaper after drying her off, then wraps her in a warm blanket to protect her naked skin from the less than forgiving air of her home._

_She throws her big comforter off the bed along with the extra pillows, creating a space for the baby. Stella places her at the top of the bed and lays down side ways, leaving enough room so she won’t roll over on top of her, but uses the headboard and her body like bumpers on a crib._

_When Stella finds herself waking up in the middle of that night, and she does often, she gently places her hand on the baby’s little chest, feeling her heartbeat and gentle breathing against her palm._

_Stella wonders if this is a dream, because the fact that she slept through the entire night seems like a miracle._

She gently places her hand on Savannah’s chest, feeling her heartbeat like she did all those years ago. Her breaths are even, her heart thumps up to greet her palm, and Stella finds unexpected tears welling up in her eyes. Seeing her alive and well after so many months, especially after all the death she’s seen at the hands of Paul Spector, engenders a sense of relief within her heart and every cell of her body. She sniffs and wipes at her tears, closing her eyes and bowing her head.

“Mama?”

She startles slightly at the word, finally looking up into the soft brown eyes of her daughter. She gives her a watery smile.

“Hi, darling,” she breathes.

Savannah sleepily smiles back, sitting up and wrapping her arms around Stella’s neck.

“Am I dreaming?”

Stella closes her eyes, holding in a sob as she squeezes her tighter. “No, darling, I’m here.”

The feel of her tiny body against her chest warms her heart, the cold and the dark and the sadness drifting away like a balloon on the wind. She sighs and rubs her daughter’s back, the stresses of the last few months fading into the background.

Savannah pulls away and meets Stella’s eyes, placing small fingers against her left cheek.

“What’s wrong with your face?” she asks.

Stella let’s out a small chuckle. “I had an accident.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m alright,” she says, and presses her lips to her daughter’s forehead.

“Does this mean I can go home now?” she asks, her eyes brightening as if she weren’t in deep sleep just moments before.

Stella nods as she gently moves a strand of hair from her face, and says, “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. Will you forgive me?”

“Yeah,” Savannah responds, nodding, “You came back, like always, so it’s okay.”

A lump forms in Stella’s throat, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying. She doesn’t believe that she will always come back. Not after this trip, when she almost didn’t. Not after this trip, when so many other women didn’t come back to their families. Stella gently bumps Savannah’s nose with her pointer finger before pulling her back in for another hug.

She wraps her legs around Stella’s body as she lifts her out of bed. Stella turns to find Jane in the doorway, watching the interaction with a sad smile on her face.

“Thank you for taking care of her,” she says.

“It’s no problem, she’s very well behaved.”

Stella nods, holding Savannah tighter against her chest. “I’ll be back for her things in the morning.”

Jane nods and walks them to the door, waving goodbye as she makes her way down the stairs.

Savannah presses her face into Stella’s neck, and Stella bends slightly to shield her from the wind, knowing she needs to get her baby home safely, like she did so many years before.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this fic is near and dear to my heart. It warms my heart every time I read it, and I hope it does the same for you. Thanks for reading!


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